


Say Goodbye

by triste



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It hurts, Tetsuya. Make it stop."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Goodbye

Title: Say Goodbye  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke  
Pairing: Kise/Kuroko  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Mpreg, character death  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

A sort of B-side fic to [A Thousand Things](http://archiveofourown.org/works/558632), although you don't need to have read that one to understand this.

~~

Tetsuya is gone, and the only thing Ryouta has left is regret. Even though he knew there would be risks involved with the pregnancy, he pushed Tetsuya into it anyway. If it hadn’t been for him, Tetsuya would still be with him, but he’s not. Because of him, Tetsuya is dead.

“Idiot,” Daiki says, trying to shake some sense into Ryouta – literally, by grabbing his shoulders and giving him a shove. “Stop blaming yourself. Tetsu wanted kids just as much as you did, if not more so. Sometimes, shit happens, and it’s nobody’s fault. The doctors did their best.”

“But it wasn’t good enough!” Ryouta’s head knows that Daiki is right, but his heart is too wounded to care about things like reason and logic. He needs to lash out at someone, anyone, be it himself, Daiki, the surgeons, or even his and Tetsuya’s son.

For a brief moment, Ryouta is almost blinded with hatred and resentment, but it passes as quickly as it comes, leaving him stricken with guilt, because how could he possibly have felt something so terrible? It makes him feel like the lowest person on earth for rejecting his own child. 

Tetsuya would be ashamed of him, and that’s what brings Ryouta to his knees, makes his body wrack with shudders when he remembers how Tetsuya never got to see their son before he died.

“Aominecchi,” he whispers, cheeks wet with tears, “what am I going to do without him?”

“You’re going to keep on living,” Daiki tells him, “for Tetsu’s sake and for your own, so don’t go doing anything stupid, okay? There’s a newborn kid in there that needs you more than anyone else, so if you’re convinced you can’t go on, think of him. That’s your reason to carry on, isn’t it?”

Ryouta can recall, when he closes his eyes, Tetsuya saying how proud he was to be carrying his child, how happy he was for making him a father, and it brings another stab of guilt to his gut.

“Besides,” Daiki continues, turning his back on Ryouta to shield his face from view, “you’re not the only person who’s being affected by this.”

The sound of Satsuki’s heart broken sobs coming from the room where Tetsuya’s lifeless body lies attests to his words, making Ryouta clutch at his chest through his shirt. It’s too painful for him to breathe properly, and although he may not be able to witness Daiki crying, it’s evident what he’s doing by the way his shoulders shake with grief.

“I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” Ryouta says, voice breaking. “I wish things could be different.”

“We all do,” Daiki mutters, trying to hide his emotion by adding a muffled “moron” to the end of his sentence, but the insult is lacklustre at best, with none of his usual bite behind it. “Just make sure you say goodbye properly, okay?” 

Since Ryouta never got the chance while he was still alive.

He doesn’t have to wait much longer for Satsuki to emerge, and he gets that twisting sensation in his gut once more when she falls into Aomine’s protective embrace, fighting back the jealousy and the bitterness that comes with the thought of how he’ll never be able to hold Tetsuya like that again, but he tries to force them out of his mind, concentrating only on his beloved, because that’s something that won’t ever change, even with Tetsuya’s death. 

He looks so peaceful when Ryouta steps into his room. He looks like he’s simply sleeping, but he doesn’t stir when Ryouta places a palm to his face, still warm, and he doesn’t wake up. 

“Hey.” Ryouta sits down in the chair Satsuki has recently vacated, running his fingers through Tetsuya’s hair. “I just got a lecture from Aominecchi, but I guess I needed it. He won’t say it, but he’s going to miss you. So will Sacchan, and I...”

He’ll miss Tetsuya the most.

Licking his lips that have suddenly gone dry, Ryouta makes another attempt.

“I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, you know. I thought you’d be by my side forever. We were supposed to grow up together, get old together and even die together, but I guess you beat me to that last one.”

And now he’s all alone, Ryouta wants to say, but he doesn’t, because he’s not. There’s someone else for him to share his life with now, a little boy with eyes as blue as the sky that will someday manage to fill the gap Tetsuya has left behind and heal the pain his absence is inflicting on Ryouta.

“Now that you’re not here anymore, I’m going to have to learn how to be strict,” he says, forcing a laugh. “I was planning on being a doting daddy who spoils his kids rotten, but you won’t be around to stop me going crazy with gifts and affection.”

Tracing Tetsuya’s features with trembling fingertips, Ryouta clears his throat.

“I’ll tell our son about the stupid stuff we used to do in middle school, our first date, when we moved in together and the day we got married. I’ll show him the pictures I took, and maybe those embarrassing love letters I used to write that you kept threatening to burn. I wanted to be an awesome dad, but I don’t mind looking lame if it means he’ll get to meet you this way, even if it’s only through my memories.”

And that’s what they’ve become, Ryouta realises, with a sense of loss so strong, it sends him reeling, reflections, recollections. Everything he’s done with Tetsuya now belongs in the past. There’s no future for the two of them. Not anymore.

Forgetting about putting up a front, forgetting about trying to stay strong, Ryouta leans down and nudges his forehead against Tetsuya’s.

“Why did you leave me? It hurts, Tetsuya. Make it stop.”

But Tetsuya doesn’t say anything, and the ache in Ryouta’s heart doesn’t go away.

Somehow he manages not to cry, and he has no idea how long he simply sits there, breathing in Tetsuya’s scent, but he can’t stay forever, not when their son is waiting for him, so he whispers “I love you” and kisses Tetsuya’s lips for the last time, drawing the sheets over his face and leaving the room, not daring to look back.


End file.
